


Things I've always known

by Pampermousse



Category: Justified
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 02:31:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13044645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pampermousse/pseuds/Pampermousse
Summary: Post-series. Raylan and Boyd work a few things out.





	Things I've always known

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HalfshellVenus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfshellVenus/gifts).



> I love writing Raylan and Boyd and it was a pleasure to write this. Hope you enjoy it!

Raylan stretches his legs and takes in some of the early morning sun. Art is chasing a lead and has stopped by Miami to catch up before he heads back to Lexington. They’re at a cafe and just finishing up their breakfast.

“So you heard that Boyd’s out I take it?” Art says, laying his money on the table.

Raylan lifts his eyebrows, “Yeah, as I recall I’m the one that told you.”

“No, he’s also out.” Art says, emphasising the last word with widening eyes and a smirk. “Like rainbow out.” Art clarifies with too much glee for Raylan’s liking.

Raylan just stares at him trying to stay composed.He hears blood rushing in his ears. He realises he needs to act normal and feels like he should make a joke here, to ask whether Art is shitting him - that seems something he should do. Instead of just being silent and seemingly believing Art straight off the bat. But he has lost the ability to speak. So instead he tips back in his chair and fiddles with his hat, and forces his face into something resembling a sardonic grin but feels like a grimace to him.

“It’s too damn early for this shit.” He finally manages to get out. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I heard from Tim who heard from someone down in Baton Rouge.”

“What did you hear?” Raylan manages to grind out.

Art takes a breath and gives him a look. “He’s out. I think he identifies as bisexual like I could give a shit about the gender of which poor soul chooses to take up with him.” Art takes another sip of beer, “but you know - it’s kinda funny right? Boyd?”

Raylan swallows and nods his head slowly, blinking, “Yeah - it’s funny.”

“Except you don’t look too amused Raylan,” Art says, eyes narrowing.

“Like you say, I could give less of a shit what Boyd is up to these days. It’s enough that the motherfucker managed to get out of jail.”

“Hmm,” is Art’s response but he’s eyes are glinting like he’s figuring something out.

==========

He calls Tim a week later on the pretence of catching up which Tim busts him for in 30 seconds of course.

“Let me guess - you heard about Boyd.”

“Well, yes, about that - didn’t think that was worth mentioning did you?” Raylan tries and fails to keep the peevishness out of his voice.

They chat about once a month on average, usually lasts around ten minutes, five of them insults.

“I didn’t think you cared what Boyd was up to nowadays.” Tim says and Raylan can hear the mocking.

“I really don’t, but I think Boyd coming out would qualify as newsworthy.”

“I don’t know what to tell you - I heard from his parole officer that he met some guy down there and they’re shacked up or something. I mean i don’t know his fucking domestic arrangements but there’s a guy.”

Raylan stays quiet while his insides start churning.

“Did you know he swung that way?” Tim asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.

Raylan closes his eyes and huffs out a breath. “Boyd has always been unpredictable.”

“So that’s a yes then.”

“It’s a no, but it’s me saying that not much can surprise me anymore where Boyd’s concerned.”

Lying to other people and lying to yourself are two different things, he tells himself, with the latter being far worse .

“Well, whatever. I guess he’s happy. Not that he deserves to be or that I care at all.” Tim says before yawning and hanging up, leaving Raylan even more fucked up than when he called.

============

Things that are unspoken take on a value that far exceeds their actual worth. That’s why he can’t stop thinking about this shit with Boyd and some other shit with Boyd that goes years back. That’s what he tells himself. Nineteen is a long time away from forty-nine.

If he does choose to remember he would remember reaching for Boyd on the porch of his house and pulling back at the last minute at the look in Boyd’s eyes - confused and knowing all at once. He had pulled his hand through his hair instead and made a joke but Boyd had known what he had been thinking of doing and they never spoke of it again. He had been drunk previously in the night but had sobered up by then, watched Boyd in the moonlight, his face a profile of hurt and fury. Bo had let forth a torrent of invective earlier and Boyd was still smarting. Raylan had been overcome with the desire to take that all away from him, and another sudden more surprising desire. He had gone home later that night and jerked off to the thought of Boyd and had felt terrible about it - like he was violating him in some way since Boyd was obviously not interested. But Raylan would never have reached out if he hadn’t thought there was a possibility that Boyd could reciprocate. He hadn’t imagined the looks, the twinkle in his eye when he teased him, the special kind of tension between them. But over the years he became convinced he had. Until now that is.

===========

His phone rings the next morning and he struggles to get it, muttering hello whilst half off the bed.

“Raylan - was such a pleasure the other day catching up I wondered whether you wanted to accompany me down to Baton Rouge.”

“Really.”

“Yes. I have to interview Boyd about an ongoing case up here - thought you might want to tag along to annoy him - that is the sort of thing that amuses you right?”

“Why you would think I would be interested in this-”

“Don’t say I never do nothing for you Givens.” Art hangs up before Raylan can protest further.

========

The drive up from Miami to Baton Rouge is uncomfortably long. It gives Raylan the opportunity to think. The last time he had seen Boyd was when he delivered the lie about Ava and gotten unforgivably misty-eyed over their shared history. The problem is he always saw too much of himself when he looked at Boyd and the guilt of that continues to eat at him. When he arrives at the motel he is staying in for the night he takes a long shower and tries to clear his head. His mind strays to Boyd at nineteen though - angry eyes and locked jaw looking out from the porch, to Boyd at 42, tired eyes filled with tears, looking at him in an impossible way through the prison glass. When he thinks about what Boyd said, about getting out of Harlan, it gets to him every time and he had convinced himself that serving time in prison was getting out in some way for Boyd - and yet now- he’s properly out, in more ways than one. Raylan doesn’t know the terms of the deal that got him out - has gone against his nature in not finding them out. It would piss him off - of that he is sure.

========

“Rise and shine cowboy!” He hears Art shout whilst banging the door.

He opens the door dressed and ready and gives Art a look, “Keep it down old man. Some people are sleeping.”

“Raylan - you’re a sight for sore eyes. Fully dressed as well thank god. Never do know what I’m going to find when I open a motel door with you inside.”

“You’re a funny guy Art.” he says closing the door behind him.

“Ready?” Art looks at him seriously.

"For annoying Boyd and possibly arresting him again? Always.”

But he sees Art isn’t convinced and he wonders for the hundredth time whether coming up here wasn’t one of his worst ideas.

Art briefs him on the drive over - there is some kind of drug pin from Harlan that moved down here a couple of months ago, had connections to Boyd and Art has been building a case on him.

“I think he’s expanding his business empire shall we say.” Art explains.

“And of course Boyd is involved.” Raylan scoffs, annoyed.

“Not necessarily. From what I hear, he really is on the straight and narrow - but that doesn’t mean the undesirables still don’t go to him for whatever.”

Raylan lifts his eyebrows. “You’re too old and smart to think Boyd has changed his ways.”

“Maybe. But this guy of his - he’s legit - never been involved with the law - maybe all he needed all along was the love of a good man.” Art sneaks a look at him, enjoying his discomfort too much.

“Maybe that’s why you and him never worked out Raylan.” He says switching the engine off and laughing at the look on Raylan’s face. “I was actually joking - but the look on your face is making me reconsider.”

Before Raylan can say anything back Art is out of the car and walking up a neat driveway to a small white house. He’s just turning around from closing the car door when he sees Boyd opening the front door and shaking Art’s hand. He is thankful for the half a second advantage he has before Boyd notices him and he straightens up and pastes an easy cock-sure smile on his face. Boyd’s eyes widens and for the first time in a long long time, Raylan can see that Boyd is off-balance. Raylan tips his hat to him and walks up, cos Boyd always did and always will bring out the best and worst in him.

“Well, now I’m worried.” Boyd says with his arms wide out either side of him. “If Raylan is here that means a visit to the county jail can’t be far away.”

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” he asks, and the tone in his voice is needling.

“I do apologise Raylan. I’m just surprised. Please come in.” and he reaches and finally shakes Raylan’s hand.

“You alone here?” Art asks looking around

“John’s at work.” Boyd answers and Raylan feels his fists clench instinctively.

“John? Really? You’re dating a guy called John?” cos apparently this is going to be how it’s gonna go. Raylan having no control over what comes out of his mouth.

“Is it the name that offends you or something else Raylan?” Boyd asks all wide-eyed bullshit innocence.

“Until I get to know the guy better it’s just his name for now.” Raylan answers, hands on his hips and looking around."

”Take a seat Raylan. I was assured by Art that this wasn’t a shake down so there’s no need to walk around looking for stuff.”

Raylan keeps standing and he can sense Art looking exasperated rather than see him. He is resolutely avoiding eye contact with either of them.

“I’ll leave you two to it. I’ll be in the yard checking for buried bodies.” He says and walks through the house towards the back. He understands he is a coward but this shit is too much, even for him.

The yard is pretty nice, grass is cut and there are a couple of rose bushes on the side and Raylan needs to sit down because he doesn’t understand how Boyd gets this life and he gets a apartment he can barely stretch in in Miami and the inability to hold down any kind of long-term relationship apart from Willa.

He must have been sitting for a while because the back door opens and Boyd slowly sits on the step next to him.

“Art says to tell you he’ll meet you later back at the motel.” Boyd says, kicking a stone away. Raylan doesn’t say anything but just takes some deep breaths.

“This isn’t the life I expected you to be leading Boyd. I have to be honest.”

“Which part? The law-abiding part or the other part?”

“Both.”

“Well, I’m a little surprised myself I must admit.”

“Did you always feel this way? I mean, were you always attracted to, you know, men?”

“It comes and goes. There was no-one else but Ava when I was with her. Didn’t look twice at anyone else. But before, there were occasions.”

“These occasions…”

“You remember that night on your porch when we were nineteen? Bo had inflicted some damage on my mind I can still feel now. And you were there Raylan. You eased my mind that night.”

“For that I’m glad.” Raylan says but it comes out hoarse.

They’re both silent before Boyd says slowly, “I wanted you that night Raylan. I just didn’t really know I did. And when I knew what I felt, it was too late. You were gone.”

They just sit there in silence, legs touching and breathing even.

“It was a long time ago Boyd.” He says finally.

Boyd disappears into the house and comes back with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

“When’s John getting back?” Raylan asks, trying for civility.

“Tomorrow morning. He’s a-” Raylan stops him with a raised hand. “I think the less I know about him the better for all concerned. Let’s just drink.”

“As you wish Raylan.” Boyd says, but Raylan can tell he wants to probe more.

They drink quietly, every now and then Boyd comes up with some story from when they were young and stupid and Raylan smiles despite himself. It’s almost easy, as if the intervening 30 years didn’t happen. It’s been a couple of hours and Raylan gets up, making to leave and walks back through the house. He stops at the kitchen to put his empty glass away and feels Boyd close behind him. He stays still, taking even breaths and clenches his hands on the kitchen counter. He turns around and faces Boyd, who is looking at him tensely. This time when he reaches out and he doesn’t pull back and Boyd comes willingly if a little reluctantly, but when their mouths meet it is with sureness and purpose. It is a slow deep kiss, and it continues with Raylan pulling Boyd closer and fisting his hand in his shirt. Boyd pushes him against the counter and starts kissing him with more aggressiveness and it feels all-consuming. They separate and they’re both out of breath. Boyd has his hand on Raylan’s arm and Raylan’s hand is holding Boyd’s neck. They lean in again and Boyd slides his hand underneath Raylan’s shirt and Raylan shivers with need. The loud ring of the cellphone stops them short. Boyd takes the phone out of his pocket and grimaces slightly when he sees the name.

Raylan can take an educated guess who it might be and moves away. Boyd composes himself and takes the call whilst walking to the other room, motioning with his finger for Raylan to stay put.

Raylan has always been helpless to a reformed Boyd. He sees that now. He also knows that whatever this is between them will never amount to anything good. He looks at Boyd and sees his sins, his worst excesses and Boyd’s too.

When Boyd comes out of the bedroom Raylan already has his hat on and Boyd looks at him resigned. They don’t need to say anything, they both know that this was the most they could hope for.

“You know, Tim told me that you seemed happy when I spoke to him.” Raylans says, “He also said, “not that he cares or deserves to be”.” Raylan stops and looks at Boyd, “ I just want to say that I’m of another opinion. You deserve happiness Boyd and I think you have it here. And honestly, it eases my mind, and I know it probably shouldn’t but it does.”

“Thank you for that Raylan. You know I hope the same for you.” Raylan nods and with one last look, let’s himself out.

=====

Art calls him the next day and tells him the Boyd’s story checked out. He really does seem to be on the straight and narrow. Raylan wonders how much Art knows and suspects. Not much gets past him. He feels an overwhelming sense of relief and he didn’t know until now how much he wanted Boyd to really be legit. His fingers hover over his phone and he types out a message. “If you’re in Miami, look me up.” he pauses and considers the opening he’s offering Boyd and the possibility he’s offering himself. He presses send.


End file.
